Michael approached the final rift alone. The others were fine, he could sense the state they were in through his Eyes of Love. They’d torn through eleven rifts in less than a day. The deal had been for ten, but Michael had no intention of ignoring the others and leaving problems for Southwind. He pushed through the brush to reach a clearing filled with horned men. He was already lit in gold flame as he emerged from the woods and at the sight of his charge dozens of the horned men began to bleat in fear like goats.He crashed into the first of them with his shield, lighting him aflame as the force of his charge threw him into the others. He pushed straight for the rift itself, making it nearly halfway, and carving through a dozen rift creatures before they were able to mount a defense.Two charged him with spears and tripped them with barriers before caving their skulls in with Ruin. He summoned shin height barriers around himself, tripping more of the horned men that charged him and blocked three thrown spears, two more bouncing off of his armor.The Horned men began to swarm him, running over one another to try and stab at him with their spears. Michael stayed calm, falling back to his thousands of hours of training. He moved like a one man line. Keeping his shield raised in front of himself, and barriers to his back and sides, he raised his sword and began working his way through basic strikes. Each one was delivered perfectly, cutting through every enemy no matter how hard they tried to block them. He struck, pushed forward, struck, and pushed forward until he was close enough to the rift.He extended his will at the rift. It felt small next to the divine energy within him. It blinked out. There was no resistance, no pushback, it simply winked out of existence. The horned men broke, and ran a few more down before they could get away. When the area was clear he let divine fire burn the blood away from himself and changed (...)